


the girl with the sword

by fabulouslaughter



Series: Femslash February Drabbles [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Zombie AU, apocalypse au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-03
Packaged: 2018-05-17 22:56:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5888452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fabulouslaughter/pseuds/fabulouslaughter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eat. Sleep. Kill. Run. Repeat. Malia can't worry about anything other than survival. Until she meets the girl that changes it all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the girl with the sword

**Author's Note:**

> 2\. Apocalypse/Dystopian AU + Malira for twfemslashficrec’s femslash february challenge
> 
> I've really enjoyed writing this one, and it's a story I'm thinking about continuing after I finish femslash february. If anyone would be interested in reading more of this story please leave a comment and tell me!

Malia made it a habit not to stay in one place for too long. It wasn’t safe. Even if it felt like the most well secured place on the planet, that could never ever fall victim to the hoards, it still wasn’t safe. Nowhere was safe. Malia had learned that the hard way. The last time she had thought her hide out was safe, she had lost her best friend. 

So now she kept moving.

Because of her wandering, she kept her load small: an old ripped back pack filled with whatever food and water she could pick up, her trusty pocket knife, a jacket, and the one half loaded pistol she had picked up off a dead cop. She wasn’t entirely sure how to use it, but having a gun made her feel safer. In a life or death situation, she could probably figure it out. You just pull the trigger, right?

For other supplies, she picked things up and left them behind as she went. Everyday objects (a baseball bat, an old pipe, once even a lamp) often made the best weapons, but she couldn’t go carrying those around. Malia had never been a hoarder, and now wasn’t the time to pick up the habit. She just had to hold onto the hope that when faced with a monster, something useful would be handy. She was rather resourceful, so thus far that approach seemed to be working for her. 

As for food, that was the one thing she did tend to hoard, and with good reason. Anything that looked like it wouldn’t spoil got shoved into her bag. Food went quick. Right now, she happened to be low on food, which is why she had to head into town.

Normally, Malia avoided towns on principle. There were several things wrong with them. First off, towns had more concentrated populations before the outbreak, so there were bound to be more turned people wander around. Secondly, towns often attracted other survivors. And Malia didn’t want to run into other survivors. Sure, nominally two sets of hands sounded better than one, but most people who had survived this long were the type who would stab you in the back just to steal your few morsels of grub.

So Malia was quite unhappy about having to venture into former civilization, but hey, a girl had to eat. The first town she came upon was a rather small place by the name of Beacon Hills. She had never heard of it, but it would work for her purpose. She just needed to be in and out.

The streets of Beacon Hills were empty of life, no surprise. There were plenty of rotting bodies littering the sidewalks, and empty cars forever idling in the street, but nothing moved. Good.

Malia didn’t come across a grocery store, but she didn’t usually loot grocery stores anyway. People looking for food always went to food stores first, so most had been long since cleaned out of all useful food by now. Plus, they often only had one exit, and that made them a death trap.

She did come across an old high school: Beacon Hills High School. For a second Malia mused upon how she would’ve been a senior now, attending some school not much different than this one, if the world hadn’t gone to shit. She quickly put the thought out of her mind. Thinking about the old world didn’t help anything. Still, she studied the school for a moment, and then decided it would be a good place to hit. There was bound to be a cafeteria kitchen full of food packaged to stand the test of time, and a school would be required to have a certain number of exit routes, per fire code. 

Confident in her decision, Malia briefly set down her backpack, fished out the gun, tucked it into the waistband of her jeans, and then slung the bag back over her shoulder. She wanted to have the gun visible, in case she ran into anybody. Sure, the sight of the gun wouldn’t mean anything to a zombie, but when it came to other survivors, a gun made her look like less of an easy target. And as a teenage girl, she kind of looked like an easy target. 

Malia made her way to the front entrance of the school. She tugged on the door, and it opened easily for her. The lock had been broken off by someone before her. Probably ages before her, so she didn’t have to worry about them still being in the school.

Malia made her way down the hallway. It was so eerie being in a school with no people. Clearly people had been here since the outbreak, some of the lockers were bashed in and the walls were littered with blood stains. The blood looked dry, so she was probably safe, or at least as safe as she could be.

Malia was passing the locker rooms when she heard noises. Grunts and shuffling- definitely zombies. She was about to turn around and head in the other direction, when she heard the voice. A human voice.

“Help! Somebody, please!” It was a girl’s desperate cry. A young girl, probably around Malia’s own age. 

Malia hesitated. By all logic, she should have turned around and ignored the plea. Helping the girl would be dangerous. Hell, the girl herself could be dangerous. But she sounded so desperate and scared. As hardened as Malia was, she was still human.

Malia crept closer to the locker room door and listened. She couldn’t tell exactly how many zombies were behind the door. Five? That would be her best guess.

Every instinct told her to keep moving. And yet, for some reason, call it fate, Malia flung open the locker room door, making her dramatic entrance.

The door hit the wall with a bang, which she had intended when she flung it open, drawing the zombies attentions towards her. That would get them off the girl for a moment. 

Six zombies turned to face her. So her estimate had been close. The girl stood in the corner of the room opposite from Malia. As Malia had guessed, she looked about Malia’s age. However, Malia had been expecting her to be so damn gorgeous. Or carrying a sword.

But Malia didn’t have time to think about the gorgeous girl with the sword. She had six undead coming to eat her. So she grabbed the nearest weapons she could find- a lacrosse stick. That would work.

Malia charged the first one, slamming the end of the net into his neck with another force to knock off his head. Nice and clean. One down.

Malia was outnumbered, but she had the advantage of speed. She just needed to keep the zombies from getting too close. Malia swing her lacrosse stick at the next zombi, and managed to knock it off its feet. It wasn’t dead, but hopefully it would take a while to get back up.

Down to four. Before Malia could make her next move, a sword slashed two of them in half. Apparently the girl had mobilized. 

Malia whacked one in the head with her lacrosse stick, while the girl skewered the other. Malia just kept hitting the zombie in the head with her stick, increasing in strength until the zombie’s head was nothing but a bloody pulp.

The one zombie that had been on the ground was struggling to get up, but the girl stuck her sword in his skull before he could.

And then there were none.

Malia surveyed the carnage around her, and then studied the girl. Her clothes were bloody and torn, much like Malia’s own, and she didn’t seem to be carrying anything other than her sword. Still, it was an impressive sword.

“Thanks.” The girl stuck out her hand. “I’m Kira.”

“Malia.” Malia hesitantly took the girl’s hand, still keeping her eyes on the sword. Just because the girl was pretty doesn’t mean she trusted her. “And I’m not sure you needed the help.”

“They had me cornered. I couldn’t have taken them without you.” Kira said. “Really, thanks. Not many people would have helped me.”

“Well, it’s a shitty world.” Malia responded. What was she supposed to do now? Did her and the beautiful stranger just part ways? That seemed like the best option.

“I already raided the kitchen, if that’s why you’re here. I’ve got my stuff stocked in a classroom- I’ve been staying here a while. You’re welcome to come share.” Kira explained.

Malia was silent for a moment. Either this girl was just a genuinely good person, or she was trying to trick Malia. It was most likley the former. “Lower your sword.” Malia commanded. She pulled out her gun in one fluid motion, pointing it at the girl. (She had practiced taking the gun out quickly- it made her look like she knew how to use it.)

Kira dropped the sword and held up her hands in surrender. “I don’t mean any harm, I promise. If you want to take my food and leave, go ahead.”

Malia tucked her gun back into her jeans and picked up Kira’s sword. She turned it over in her hands. She didn’t know much about swords, but this one seemed nice.

“Family heirloom.” Kira said. “Would you believe that I’d never used it before all of this happened?”

“You learn fast.” Malia commented.

Kira shrugged. “I needed to.”

The two stood there in silence for a moment, Malia still sizing Kira up. Kira waited.

Malia’s rational thoughts told her to take Kira’s weapon and food and go on her way. But then again, clearly she wasn’t thinking rationally, considering she had helped Kira in the first place. 

Malia tossed Kira back her sword. “Let’s eat.” At least if she died, it would be by the hands of a pretty girl.

Kira led her to a classroom a few halls over. 

“My humble abode.” Kira gestured for Malia to enter.

The classroom definitely looked lived in. Food was piled up in one corner. A sleeping bag was draped over some pushed together desks. Other supplies was scattered through out the room, organized into piles. 

Malia raised an eyebrow. “Homey.”

Kira shrugged, going to rummage through one of her piles. “I’m a homey person I guess.” She pulled some cans from her pile. “Are beans okay?”

Malia snorted. The world was overrun with zombies- anything edible was okay. “Beans are fine.”

Before Malia knew it, Kira had somehow opened the can and was serving her beans on an impromptu plate that used to be part of a cardboard box. 

Malia settled on the floor with her meal, and Kira sat nearby. Malia ate like a pig. Manners didn’t really seem important. She was already covered in blood.

Malia wiped her mouth with her sleeve. She had demolished her beans in record time. “So how long have you been staying here?” She asked.

“A week or so.” Kira answered, still working on her own beans. Apparently she still cared about manners.

“Is that the first attack you’ve had here?”

Kira nodded. “I found them when I was exploring the school. I haven’t been on the second floor or in the basement yet, but this floor seems clear.”

Malia nodded. If she was going to stay any longer, she would have to check the other floors herself. She didn’t feel safe anywhere she didn’t know was clear. Why was she even thinking about this? Of course she couldn’t stay. She needed to move. That was how you survived. 

Kira interrupted her thoughts. “How long has it been since you’ve slept?”

“Do I really look that bad?” Malia tried to push off the question. In reality, she hadn’t really slept since she was forced to kill her own mother, who had been turned and was trying to eat her, and was left alone. Sure, she got a wink of sleep every now and then, but really only enough to stay alive. Sleeping left her vulnerable.

“Why don’t you get a good nap in?” Kira suggested. “You look like you need it. I’ll keep watch, promise.”

Malia mulled this over. Normally, she would say hell no. Kira could easily take her stuff in run. Or kill Malia and take her stuff. But logically, Kira had a better stash here than Malia was carrying, so it didn’t make sense that she would run. And she really could have already killed Malia by now. And Malia was realizing just how tired she really was. 

“Why would you do that for me?” Malia asked.

Kira looked at her like she had just asked a ridiculous question. “Because you look tired and I slept a few hours ago. Why wouldn’t I?”

Because I wouldn’t. Because no one else would. Because no one cares about each other anymore. 

Malia didn’t voice any of her thoughts. Instead she just climbed into the sleeping bag. It wasn’t much of a bed, but it was certainly more comfortable than the bed. 

“Comfortable?” Kira asked.

“Screw me over and I swear I’ll kill you.” Malia responded.

Kira didn’t seem put off by her hostility. “Will do.”

Hmm. Maybe someone did still care.

 

When Malia woke up a few hours later and found that Kira had at some point squeezed into the sleeping bag with her and was sound asleep, she wasn’t even mad that no one was on watch.

Instead she snuggled closer to Kira and fell back asleep.

For the first time in a while, everything in the world wasn’t terrible. Only like 99% of everything. 

But hey, 1% of good was more than Malia had yesterday.


End file.
